


The beginning of the end

by sunshine_kitcat (moonkevin)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Death, End of the World, M/M, getting together?, two boys finally stop being idiots but then the world ends, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonkevin/pseuds/sunshine_kitcat
Summary: “So,” Yangyang hums nonchalantly, taking off his headphones. “The world ends in three days.”Dejun doesn’t look up from his book, casually lounging on the couch as he hums in response.“Yes it does,” Dejun agrees.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44
Collections: Challenge #4 — Awaken The World





	The beginning of the end

_ Those superficial wounds will heal in just a few days, _

_ Your silence is more like your loneliness crying out _

_ Face to Face, WayV _

“So,” Yangyang hums nonchalantly, taking off his headphones. “The world ends in three days.”

Dejun doesn’t look up from his book, casually lounging on the couch as he hums in response.

“Yes it does,” Dejun agrees, still engrossed in the fantasy book he found lying around in their apartment hallway yesterday, probably dropped by one of their neighbours trying to scramble out of the building to do something before the world ended. It’s a good book, Dejun notes, a story about some kind of post-apocalyptic journey to turn back time and save humanity from the end of the world. The story is almost prophetic, in fact.

“Do you want to do something?” Yangyang asks, voice muffled by his coffee mug as he downs the thing. Once upon a time, Dejun might’ve chided his roommate for his overconsumption of coffee. Now, it doesn’t really matter.

“Not really,” Dejun shrugs. “If it’s my time to go, it’s my time to go.”

Yangyang doesn’t respond, completely silent for the next few minutes. Dejun revels in it, continuing to flip through his book in peace. The main character, some guy named ten, had just finished fixing up his spaceship, which he plans on using to launch directly into the Moon and blast it to bites with his lasers. Dejun doubts it works, judging from the number of pages he still has left on the book.

The couch dents next to Dejun, ever so slightly dipping as he feels Yangyang roll on. He swings an arm across Dejun’s torso, hanging on as he tucks his head into the crook of Dejun’s neck. They’ve always been affectionate, these kinds of things coming naturally to the pair. Once upon a time, Dejun might’ve debated and noticed the warmth pooling at the pit of his stomach, but he’s been unable to feel a lot of things ever since they announced the world is ending.

“Don’t you have regrets?” Yangyang asks. “Hopes? Dreams? Things you wish you’d be able to do?”

Dejun thinks he should react just as impassively, seeing as how he hasn’t given anyone or anything proper consideration in days. The book’s been absorbing him lately, for god knows why. Maybe it’s the main character Ten and his sarcastic, self-deprecating humour. Maybe it’s the implication of him saving the world. Maybe Dejun just wants to be able to live through someone who can reverse their impending doom.

“The Moon would probably come to destroy everything I’ve built up anyway,” Dejun points out. “And it’s not like I haven’t seen the world.”

Yangyang wrinkles his nose. “Google images does not count,” he snorts.

“It counts for me,” Dejun argues. “And isn’t that what matters?”

Yangyang purses his lips. “Don’t you want to go see your family? Say goodbye?” Yangyang asks. Dejun rolls his eyes.

“Everything’s closed, Yangyang. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“What about friends? I heard Lucas is leaving for Busan tonight. We could catch him before he leaves.”

Dejun shakes his head. “We’ve said our goodbyes,” Dejun reminds him. “We all did at the party, when Sicheng and Kun decided to hop onto the last flight to Beijing to go back home. Going back now would just make those words meaningless.”

Yangyang is silent again. Dejun finds himself rereading the same passage for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, before deciding that he can’t focus today. With a sigh, Dejun closes the book and reaches over Yangyang to set it down onto the coffee table. He catches Yangyang’s blank stare as he returns to his position on the couch, raising a curious eyebrow. Pretty, a small part of Dejun’s lizard brain thinks.

“What?” Dejun asks. Yangyang opens his mouth, as if debating to say something, before deciding against it.

“It’s nothing,” Yangyang says instead, averting his gaze. He rolls off of the couch, bounding across the apartment. Dejun stares after him, somewhat confused. It’s the end of the world. What’s Yangyang even worried about? Nothing’s going to matter now.

Dejun shrugs. Whatever. If he doesn’t want to say it, he can take the secret to the world’s grave. It can’t change much now.

Yangyang does drag him out of the apartment the next day, something about wanting to see the city before it’s completely dead. Dejun had just rolled his eyes at him and called him ridiculous, but he’s always had a soft spot for Yangyang. It’s useless to argue at this point.

“Why are you so caught up in trying to salvage your last,” Dejun begins, pausing to check his watch. “One day, eight hours and forty two minutes of your life? You can take it easy this time, you know? The deadline’s going to cut you off regardless.”

Yangyang scowls. “Stop that,” he bites, all soft and weak, and suddenly Dejun feels bad. He’s always been a little pessimistic and… accepting of their situation. Had always figured it’d come.

But Yangyang? Yangyang is boundless energy and giant dreams where Dejun is content with a small life. He’s travelled the world, from when he was little until now, always trying to embark on new adventures, from travelling to Chengdu on a school weekend just to hold a panda, to discovering the wonders of a toaster at three AM in the morning.

Dejun’s always found him too cute to say no to or chide for long, finding himself wrapped up in Yangyang’s elaborate schemes more often than not. He half expects Yangyang to be one of the leavers, trying to go on one last adventure. And yet, here he is, walking down the abandoned streets of Seoul in the middle because traffic is nonexistent nowadays, arm gripping onto Dejun’s like a lifeline.

“What if this was all just a social experiment?” Yangyang inquires, suddenly switching into 3 AM mode in the middle of the day. Dejun raises an eyebrow at him. He didn’t see yangyang go to bed last night. Perhaps this was why.

“A social experiment,” Dejun repeats. “Where the government plasters the fake image of the Moon falling towards us, flooding entire coastlines with the new tides and threatening to flatten Earth as we know it.”

Yangyang wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, I knew that was stupid,” he mutters. Dejun shakes his head, wrapping an arm around Yangyang’s shoulder to squeeze him comfortingly.

“Nah, I thought about it too,” Dejun sighs. “Would be real simple, huh?”

Yangyang’s lips tug into a small smile, and suddenly Dejun feels at ease once again.

“Yeah. Would save me an existential crisis or two.”

Dejun wakes up to a loud crash the next morning. He blinks at the clock on his stand, glaring at the way it tells him to get out of bed because it’s 9 AM and he can’t sleep his way to the end of the world.

“Try me,” Dejun mutters under his breath, contemplating throwing the thing out the window. It wouldn’t matter, in the end.

Another loud crash rings from outside of the room, and Dejun sighs as he gets up.

He discovers Yangyang on the floor in the living room, a plethora of books and a broken shelf around him. He’s rubbing at his hair, the light orange strands long faded into a golden shade. Dejun raises an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t ask,” Yangyang mumbles cutely. Dejun can’t help but chuckle at him, waving Yangyang off.

“I won’t,” Dejun chuckles. “If you’re looking for my book though, it’s on my bedside. But I’m still reading it.”

Yangyang gives him the stink eye. “Thee let me suffereth through all of these evils for naught?” Yangyang proclaims dramatically, leaning backwards as he unceremoniously flops all over the floor. Dejun can’t help but giggle, rolling his eyes at Yangyang.

“You’re ridiculous. How have you made it this far in life?” Dejun shakes his head. Yangyang only winks at him.

“A guy’s gotta have his secrets.”

Yangyang’s been keeping secrets.

Dejun knows this, because he’s known Yangyang for more than a decade, ever since they were wee little teenagers who crashed into each other back in Shanghai Theatre Academy.

“Hi! I’m Yangyang!” Yangyang had said, too bright for any stressed art student. Dejun knew instantly he was a freshman.

“You look too innocent for art school,” Dejun had responded. Yangyang’s eyes grew big as he slapped him, adorable splutters of ‘I’m not useless!’ keeping Dejun utterly fascinated with Yangyang enough to follow him to the ends of the world.

First it was just Beijing, for an audition into a musical both knew they wouldn’t pass (they did). Then it was to Seoul, to chase the dream of studying abroad they both feared would break them (it didn’t). Finally, it was to the end of the world, and for the first time ever, Yangyang isn’t the one to suggest they uproot and run away.

Naturally, he has to be keeping something away from Dejun.

“Two minutes until the end of the world,” Yangyang hums, drawing Dejun’s attention. He’s on the last page of his book, just a few paragraphs away from seeing ten reunited with his old friends now that the world’s been saved. Dejun hums nonchalantly in return, finishing the paragraph. He’s only got two minutes, after all.

“The moon’s really big tonight,” Yangyang jokes, and Dejun resists the urge to roll his eyes. His gaze instead catches the final words of ‘The End’ at the bottom of the page, a funny bit of timing, considering the world’s imminent end. He wonders what happens beyond the pages of the book. Wonders if Ten ever finds his long lost lover. Wonders if Ten ever has to save the world again, given how many plot holes the author left in the book.

Wonders if he would ever someday end up in Ten’s place.

“It’s crashing in a minute,” Dejun points out. “I’d be more surprised if it wasn’t big.”

Yangyang only hums in response, a non-answer. He’s getting good at those, picking up the habit of answering the bare minimum from Dejun.

They sit in silence for another few seconds, before Dejun decides he’s over walking on eggshells. He sits up straight, swinging his legs onto the ground as Dejun takes two bounds across the room.

“Junnie?” Yangyang asks, confused until Dejun drops down next to him, joining Yangyang is staring out the window to watch the Moon crash into Earth. Dejun hums softly.

“You asked me if I had anything I wanted to do before the world ended, right?” Dejun brings up. Yangyang’s eyes widen a little in confusion and surprise.

“I thought you said I was just thinking too much?” Yangyang murmurs, voice quiet and gentle. Dejun’s always been a little in love with his voice. Then again, he’s always been a little in love with Yangyang, as a whole.

“I’ve been prone to lying,” Dejun points out, and he surges forwards, closing the distance.

And for the first time since they announced the end of the world, Dejun can’t help but find the crushing sense of regret. Regret that he didn’t do this earlier. Regret that he was such a coward, it took a world ending event for him to just cross the thin red line between friendship and love, even if his heart’s crossed eons ago.

Yangyang tastes like strawberries, probably from his end of the world snacks earlier. He’s warm and eager, kissing back with just as much vigour as they hear the faint  _ boom _ in the distance that signals the beginning of the end.

“I love you,” someone whispers. Dejun won’t ever find out who said it exactly, too busy trying to discover every last bit of Yangyang he’s missed in the last decade or so before the impact can reach them.

“I love you too.”

And then, the world went dark.


End file.
